Saint George

The plane was a lone figure against the vast westward expanse of ocean and sky, as it brought the Commander-in-Chief from the American mainland to the flight deck of the USS Lincoln. After two fly-bys, the plane swooped down and made a perfect tailhook landing. Then the cockpit opened and the President emerged, his lean muscular body moving easily in the snug flight suit.

His words were few, suiting the casual potency of his gestures: ‘Thank you,’ he said, ‘preciate it.’ ‘Yes, I flew it,’ he said. ‘Yeah, of course, I liked it. I miss flying, I can tell you that.’

This brilliantly orchestrated political theatre counteracted the disgrace inflicted by the 9/11 terrorist attacks. The Navy S-3b jet, emblazoned ‘Navy One’ for the occasion, awakened visual memories of the lawless hateful planes of 9/11. The great tower of the warship, standing erect and proud with its ‘MISSION ACCOMPLISHED’ banner, recalled the stricken and falling World Trade Center. The scene summoned up fragmentary visions of the nightmare, and banished them in a festival of triumph.

‘The tyrant is fallen and Iraq is free,’ Bush declared tersely in the speech that followed his landing, but that was not the core meaning of the pageant. American freedom was the driving force in the drama staging Bush as a military hero, not concern for the ravaged people of Iraq. ‘I have conquered,’ was the hero's message; ‘America is free’.